


On godhood

by SomeRandomOakTree



Series: Apollo's Lessons [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apollo (Percy Jackson) Needs a Hug, Apollo (Percy Jackson) is a Good Parent, Apollo chooses to stay mortal, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Mortal!Apollo, The Tower of Nero (Trials of Apollo) Spoilers, Zeus is an asshole, but i got a beta yall!!, but that's just canon, he just needs to put in more effort, he stays mortal because fuck immortality, i was going to say not beta read we die like Jason, litpollo will make an appearance in the next instalments ;), the ending of ton made me too sad so this was born, uhhh I feel like im forgetting some tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeRandomOakTree/pseuds/SomeRandomOakTree
Summary: Apollo completed his trials, and was offered everything he had wanted during those long months of suffering. But, somehow, he didn't want to be a god anymore. He refused his father's offer.It was time to learn to be a human.
Relationships: Apollo & Austin Lake, Apollo & Kayla Knowles, Apollo & Kayla Knowles & Austin Lake & Will Solace, Apollo & Meg McCaffrey, Apollo & Will Solace, Apollo & his kids
Series: Apollo's Lessons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142099
Comments: 17
Kudos: 72





	On godhood

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know about any of you, but I was really hoping Apollo would stay mortal at the end of TON. Because now he's going to age?? And all his friends will die?? That's fucking sad...
> 
> Anyway
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta @Katike

I held onto the ledge. The ledge and the lesson. 

But I was too hurt, too weak. My arms trembled and my palms were sweaty. To top it off, I was pretty sure I had a concussion (and broken ribs, and burns, and a gash on my leg, and probably multiple other injuries I didn’t notice.) I would fall. I would break another promise, and not return to Meg.

_ Meg. _

I couldn't die after I promised to return. I couldn't leave her without her "goddy servant." Even if the rest of the world didn't need me, some people  _ wanted _ me alive. 

What a weirdly comforting thing; to be wanted but not needed.

I tried to pull myself up, but a wave of pain shot through my body. My right hand slipped. One hand to go—nope! My other hand slipped too.

I fell. 

Wind roared past my ears, and the static of Chaos hummed through my skin. I closed my eyes.

I just hoped Meg would forgive me.

In a flash of lightning, I got snatched from the air, dissolving into pure light.

* * *

An invisible force threw me across a spotless white marble floor like a ragdoll.  _ Ouch. _ I got up on all fours, coughing like an eighty-year-old smoker, and a familiar metallic taste filled my mouth. Blood splattered on white stone.

Once my coughing fit was over, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Slowly and unsurely I got up, red-stained hand clutching my stomach.

"APOLLO." 

I raised my head and tried to stand up as straight as I could considering my injuries. 

"Father."

Zeus' face soured.

We stared at each other. Him in his pristine chiton, me in my bloodied and battered jeans and t-shirt. With his 19 feet of height, he towered over me. 

He interlaced his fingers.

"LET'S BEGIN THE MEETING." Our size difference made his voice too loud. I winced.

I looked around the room. Most of the gods avoided my gaze like they avoided their children, but Artemis locked eyes with me and gave me a nod of encouragement. 

I missed her so much.

"It seems you have completed your trials. You've defeated Python, and now the Fates can keep weaving as they wish." Zeus had lowered his voice, seeming to remember that I was much smaller than him at the moment. "Everything is back as it should be, correct?"

I struggled not to huff.

"Yes."

"Very well." He paused. "I'm proud of you, son."

"Poggers."

Zeus cleared his throat.

"I will return you to your place as an Olympian, Apollo."

"NO," I shouted.

The room fell into silence.

" _ No? _ Excuse me?" Zeus' expression seemed to dance between anger and confusion. I had seen this face a hundred times—every time I did something remarkably stupid. It was usually a prelude to a healthy dose of lightning.

_ "No."  _ Somehow, I managed to keep my voice firm. I didn't want to explain myself to them. I didn't want to say how our system was crooked, how we took advantage of demigods and put them in danger as a reward. How empty my existence had been until I fell into a dumpster in a New York alleyway. How I couldn't ever go back to my old life after everything I had gone through, after every lesson I had learned. But then I realized.

I didn't have to explain myself.

I looked at the Olympians sitting in their thrones, their expressions still shocked. I didn't spare a look at my former seat.

Without another word, I turned my back on them and left the room. 

I was done.

* * *

The elevator ride was long and torturous. I felt like I was going to throw up. My whole body hurt, and my legs were shaking so hard I had to lean against the wall to not fall. The spots in my vision were quite mesmerizing, though. How lovely.

A lounge version of Never Gonna Give You Up played from the speakers, and if I were a god I would have vaporized whoever created that abomination of a cover.

_ If _ I were a god… 

I'm not a god anymore.

I never will be one.

I'm going to  _ age. _ If I'm lucky enough I'll live to see myself as an elder—white hair, wrinkles, and all that.

I'm going to die someday.

My stomach lurched. That was not the time to have an existential crisis. But I had one anyway.

The doors opened with a cheerful _ 'ping!',  _ and I was violently taken out of my thoughts. 

_ Right. _ I had to find a way to go to Camp Half-Blood. Preferably before I passed out from my injuries. I had to be fast.

An idea came to me. Oh no.

I went through my pockets, somehow finding a single drachma. 

_ “Stop, O Chariot of Damnation,”  _ I said in Latin, then threw the coin to the ground.

Puffs of smoke emerged from the asphalt, and a gray taxi materialized from it. Inside were three old ladies as beautiful as the act of kicking puppies, and all of them wore charcoal-black dresses. I sighed.

This was going to be painful.

* * *

The gray sisters dropped me off at the entrance of the camp. My vision was blurry and my head hurt like Hephaestus was trying to take Athena number two out of my skull. I emptied my stomach on the ground, in what I assumed was a fantastic way to come back to Camp Half-Blood.

I walked forward, grass crunching beneath my feet. For a second, I thought I had seen the face of my long-lost love, Daphne, amidst the trees.

Maybe that concussion was getting to me.

Making my way towards the Big House, everyone looked at me like they were seeing a ghost. Which was weird, because I was pretty sure I wasn’t a ghost. Or was I? That would explain why I felt like shit. No, wait. Do ghosts even feel things? Do they even have physical forms to get hurt? 

Yeah. I definitely should seek medical help.

I entered the Big House and knocked on the infirmary door. It swung open.

_ "Dad?" _ Will asked. His eyebrows looked like they were trying to reach his hairline.

"Hello, son!" I said enthusiastically before collapsing

* * *

I woke from a dreamless sleep in a daze-like state. I didn't want to get up. Objectively, I knew I was lying in an uncomfortable infirmary cot. But after everything I had done, it felt just as comfortable as the king-sized bed I had in my old palace.

I half opened my eyes. A colorful person-shaped blur stood near the cot.

“Hey. Can you say anything?” 

Will waited for me to wake completely, clipboard and pen in hand. He wore his medical coat over the bright orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and green cargo shorts, with a stethoscope slung around his neck. Now  _ that _ was fashion. 

“Hi.” I sounded like I had spent a week wandering through a desert, then eaten some gravel just because.

Now that I was fully awake, I noticed we were in a secluded part of the infirmary. 

“You were out for a while. I need to check if everything is okay” Will put down his clipboard on the bedside table.

"Sure." I sat up. "For how long was I out?"

Will retrieved a popsicle stick from a drawer and held it in front of my face. "Follow the movement with your eyes." He slowly moved the stick from left to right. "A little over two days." 

I sighed in relief, still staring at the popsicle stick. It wasn’t too long, so I probably didn't get as much brain damage as I thought I had. My head still hurt, but that was to be expected.

Will stopped the test and hummed. He picked up his clipboard and jotted something down.

"What happened?" Will frowned. "I thought you had defeated Python."

"I did," I said.

"Then why are you here? Aren't your trials over?"

"They are."

Will closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "You aren't telling me anything, dad." I almost started crying when he called me 'dad'. "Why aren't you a god?"

"Uh… you know my immortality?" Will nodded. "I gave it up."

His clipboard clattered on the floor. I winced.

"You did  _ what?"  _ His voice got higher as the sentence progressed. 

"I gave it up…" The wall behind Will seemed fascinating all of a sudden. The old wooden walls were painted a serene baby blue. Amazing.

"Why?" 

It was such a simple question.  _ Why? _ Why would I, a former god, choose to stay in this form? Why would I choose to give up my powers and have to deal with acne, body odor, mundane tasks, and the unavoidable but terrifying concept of death? 

"I can't go back. Not after everything." I ran a hand through my hair. My arms felt like jelly. "I  _ don't want _ to be a god again." 

I had found my real family, my real friends. If I were to return to Olympus I would lose them. 

Will was quiet for a while, processing what I said. He picked up his clipboard from the ground.

"You really have changed." His eyes were far away. 

I didn't know how to answer. 

Will ran more tests. We didn't talk outside of him giving me instructions and the occasional medical question.

When he was done, he gave me a star sticker. I didn't know if it was a joke.

"I think you should talk to Chiron." Will wrote something down. "I have to go now. See you later, dad." 

He exited the room, leaving me completely alone with my thoughts. Oh no.

Not wanting to actually think about anything that had happened, I decided to check what injuries I bore. 

My whole body was sore, and my head hurt. Though my ribs still felt fragile, they weren’t broken anymore. I had one, two… eight stitches closing a gash on my side, and my torso was littered with scars and scabs. I didn’t let my eyes linger on the scar right over my heart.

Considering I had almost fallen into Chaos, things could have been a lot worse.

I got up as fast as a sloth climbing a tree, minding my every movement. I smiled when I saw the bright orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and jeans Will had set on the bedside table for me. How could such a wonderful person be my child? It was a mystery to me.

Having put on my clothes, I left the infirmary to look for Chiron.

I found him at the Big House's porch. As per usual, he wore his college professor-esque outfit—brown wool jacket with elbow patches over a white dress shirt. He turned to me, hooves clopping on the wooden floor. 

"Apollo." His expression was slightly perturbed, but the lines under his eyes were way less prominent than they had been the last time I saw him. I guessed this was what  _ not _ having the stress of dealing with a major crisis  _ and _ hundreds of teenagers at the same time does to an immortal. "It's good to see you awake."

* * *

We had been talking for almost an hour when he told me Meg was at the camp.

“She is?” I practically jumped. “Where is she?”

“If I’m not wrong you will probably find her at the strawberry fi—”

I didn’t let him finish the sentence, immediately making my way to my friend. I ran as fast as I could with my injuries, which wasn’t very fast. But it was better than nothing.

I went up the green hills and into the strawberry fields. And there, amidst all the green and red, stood Meg. In her usual red high-tops and green dress, she would have blended in perfectly with the strawberry plants if it weren’t for her black hair and bright yellow leggings.

“MEG!” I waved.

My (former?) demigod master’s head shot up. When she recognized me, she immediately put her basket of strawberries on the ground and ran to meet me. I did the same, although slower. My injured body couldn’t compete with the enthusiasm of a small twelve-year-old with ADHD. 

Meg barreled into me, latching onto my middle. My recently broken ribs ached, but at the moment I didn't care. I clung to Meg.

I came back to her. I kept my promise. 

Take  _ that _ , Styx.

“Did anything happen while I wasn’t here?”

“Nah.” She sounded like she was crying, which, judging by the wet spot on my shirt, was true. I couldn’t judge her, not when I was also crying like a small child.

"I'm staying at the camp," I blurted. "I'm not going back to being a god."

“You’re so stupid,” Meg said, still hugging me. Simple as that. 

We stopped hugging. I dried my face with the back of my hand.

“How are you?” It sounded like an empty question, but I meant it. I needed to know how she felt after everything. She fought hundreds of monsters and people  _ and _ saw her abusive stepfather die; raising her witnessed murder of father figures count to two. That couldn’t be good for a growing kid.

“Better…” Meg said, taking off her glasses to clean them on the hem of her dress. She opened her mouth to say something.

My stomach chose that exact moment to growl. Gods, I hadn’t noticed how hungry I was. 

Meg snorted.

“I haven't eaten in a while,” I said. 

Meg shrugged. “Let’s go.” She led the way to the dining pavilion.

I wondered what she was going to say, and cursed my puny mortal stomach for its terrible timing.

When we got there, we went our separate ways. She went to the Demeter table and I sat with my children (and Nico, of course) at the Apollo table. When I sat, they immediately stopped their previous conversation to stare at me.

I looked back at them, and they returned to the topic. I didn’t know if Will had already told them about my decision or if they were feeling too awkward to ask any questions.

Some campers tried to talk to me and ask what had happened. I didn't get the chance to answer, though, because Will shooed them away, saying that I was in recovery and needed space.

No one else tried to approach our table.

The buzz of conversation and the clatter of plates in the pavilion caused my headache to make a dazzling comeback. I closed my eyes.

The delicious smell of baked bread and meat compensated for the noise, though. The fact that the most recent smells I had encountered were Python's acrid breath and the sulfuric air in Tartarus made me appreciate the scent of food even more.

I tried to shoo away my memories of the fight. To not think of Python's grip on me slowly tightening and breaking my bones, of falling into the river and getting burnt, of believing I was going to die.

Everything felt… airy. Like it was all a dream. My memories were more real than the dining pavilion. Every sound was amplified, and colors were too bright, and something in my chest kept getting tighter and—

_ "Dad." _ Kayla poked my shoulder, yanking me back to reality. "Breathe."

I blinked. 

My chest trembled as I did my best to take in a silent breath. I tried the breathing exercises I had learned at a Canadian psychology seminary. And, breath by breath, the world came back into focus.

I wasn't falling down an endless pit, or fighting a giant snake. I was at Camp Half-Blood, eating lunch with my children.

"Are you okay?" Kayla asked.

I nodded. "Sorry for that." My face burned with shame.

"It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. My kids weren't supposed to see me like that.  _ I _ should've been the one comforting my children. It's what a father does. 

But I supposed I was never a good father to begin with.

“Hey, dad! They want you to tell your story at the bonfire,” Austin said, plopping down on the seat beside me. At least he didn't see my outburst.

"Who?"

"Them." He made a wide gesture. 

The whole camp then.

I grimaced. “Of course they do.” __

Changing the topic sounded incredibly appealing.

“Are there any archery classes today?” I wanted to take a closer look at Chiron's teaching methods.

“I have one!” Austin said.

“Great! Is it okay if I—”

“ _ No. _ You’re going to stay at infirmary and  _ rest _ ,” Will said. For such a sunny person, he knew how to be scary.

I opened my mouth to protest, but the withering glare my son sent me was enough to shut me up.  _ Gods, _ I had no credibility with my children. Understandably so.

“Okay…” I went back to my food. At least the slice of bread wasn't going to judge me.

The rest of lunch went by uneventfully, and I returned to the infirmary to rest.

* * *

Nightfall came, and I slept through dinner. I woke up wondering if I could pretend to be asleep while the bonfire happened to avoid having to tell the story of my fight against Python. I knew it wouldn’t work, though. Either my children or Meg would come in and drag me out of bed.

I got out of the Big House and walked to the amphitheater, psyching myself up for the explanation I would have to give everyone.

On my way there, a familiar person greeted me.

Paolo, the Brazilian son of Hebe.

“APOLLO, SEU FILHO DA PUTA!” Paolo said, holding my shoulders and shaking me in his enthusiasm. I didn’t understand what those words meant, but it probably was a good thing.

“Weren’t you at lunch?” I asked. 

He shook his head. “Cara, eu acabei me perdendo nessa porra de floresta. Você não vai acreditar no que aconteceu…” He went on to a spiel about  _ something.  _ I didn’t know what he was saying, so I just tried to interpret his avid hand gestures. It didn’t work.

I must have been very visibly confused, because Kayla suddenly swooped in to save me.

“C’mon, dad. We need you at the bonfire.” 

I waved Paolo goodbye as Kayla dragged me by the arm.

“Are you okay with telling them about Python?” Kayla looked concerned, and it made my eyes water. She reminded me so much of her other father, with her freckled face and kind bluebell eyes.

“Y-yes.” I highly doubted I sounded convincing. 

_ “Right.”  _ She didn’t press, and I was grateful.

When we arrived at the amphitheater, the bonfire was already lit, and demigods were passing around marshmallows and s'mores. The smell of food and burning wood mixed with the scent of fresh grass made me yearn for something I couldn't quite put my finger on. The wind played with my hair. I looked at the sky and, though the stars were bright, the moon hid behind the clouds.

No one noticed our arrival except for Chiron. Past Apollo would've been offended by the lack of attention, but I was relieved. 

Kayla sat beside a friend and dragged me to sit with them. 

"Campers"—Chiron clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention—"Apollo will now be telling us about his fight with Python. Be respectful and pay attention."

The loud chatter died down, though there were still some people talking.

"Apollo." Chiron leaned his head in my direction, signalizing it was my turn to speak.

I shifted on my seat, and took a deep breath.

I told them the story of how I pulled Python into Tartarus. I didn't talk about all the injuries I suffered, or about the fall, or the river, or my conversation with Styx. I talked about how Python fell into Chaos, but I didn't talk about how I almost fell with him.

"I was teleported to Olympus, and my fa— _ Zeus _ . Zeus said he was going to make me a god again," I said.

“I—” I was hesitant in telling them my choice, but they would have found out either way. I cleared my throat. “I refused immortality. I’m not going back to Olympus.”

As soon as the demigods processed my word, the murmur of conversation died, and the crowd fell into silence. The campfire kept on crackling.

Oscar Wilde once said that  _ “To live is the rarest thing in the world. The second rarest thing is to get a crowd of teens to be completely silent.”  _ Probably. So I decided to take advantage of such a rare occurrence and drop more news.

My conversation with Chiron came rushing back to me.

_ “What do you think of staying at camp permanently? We have a few extra rooms at the Big House,” Chiron had said. “And we could use a new archery and music instructor.” _

I had thought of being a present figure in my children’s lives, of helping these demigods. I had thought of making a positive impact, of doing something meaningful.

“And I will be staying at camp as your new archery and music instructor!” 

A beat of silence.

And then, chaos. But not the primordial Chaos that almost dissolved me a few days ago. No, it was the good kind of chaos. The kind that puts a smile on your face, that makes you feel more alive.

Cheers and screams erupted from the demigods that had become my friends. The enthusiasm was contagious, and they started a chant. 

"LESTER! LESTER!" 

That once shameful name had become a badge of honor.

My children suddenly decided to smother me in a group hug and I yelped, adding to the noise. My hurting body screamed in protest, but I didn’t care. My cheeks started aching, and I thought someone had elbowed me—but then I realized it was from the grin that had etched its way onto my face.

I looked around, taking everyone in; my children hugging me, the happy demigods, the confused new campers, Chiron looking fondly at our little chaos, and Meg, who was standing on her seat and giving me two thumbs up. This time I couldn't stop the tears.

I was going to make Camp Half-Blood my home.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Of course I couldn't let the chance of putting a Brazilian demigod in my fic pass. Since, you know, I'm Brazilian. Here are the translations to what Paolo said:
> 
> “APOLLO, SEU FILHO DA PUTA!” - APOLLO, YOU SON OF A WHORE
> 
> “Cara, eu acabei me perdendo nessa porra de floresta. Você não vai acreditar no que aconteceu…” - Dude, I ended up getting Lost at this fucking forest. You won't believe what happened..."
> 
> Thank you for reading! It means a lot to me. Stick around because this is a series. A long one. Like, I've got 7 fics outlined.
> 
> Have a great day! Much love <3
> 
> Next up: Apollo and Meg go on a road trip to Indiana


End file.
